


Lunar Curse

by mythical_colors



Series: Forgotten Fathers [1]
Category: Babylonian Mythology
Genre: Alternative Universe - gods and goddesses, Babylonian Mythology - Freeform, Gen, Mythology - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Persian Mythology - Freeform, Semi-Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythical_colors/pseuds/mythical_colors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Great King of the Sassanids forgets, the Moon god Sin reminds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunar Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Notes from the Writer: This was written somewhere around 2009. I was at home reading about the incorporation of Babylon into Persia during the glory days of the Sassanid Empire. True, there are fictional elements to this piece and I wouldn’t call it fully historical. The Sassanid religion was Zoroastrianism, which was fully supported by Ardeshir I and Sharpur I, two very significant Kings of the dynasty. 
> 
> As I am very fond of world mythology, I began to ponder about the possible feelings of forgotten gods. Through the rise of Christianity, Islam and Judaism – most cultures (not all) have forgotten the days of the old. Babylonian mythology is one of the oldest in the world. Today, Iran and Iraq are both Islamic states intolerant of any other faith – meaning the once great religion of the empire, Zoroastrianism, had suffered the same fate of the religion of Chaldeans, Assyrians, Babylonians and the like. This written piece also does a play of sorts on it.

**Lunar Curse**

**Written by Mythical Colors**

* * *

 

 

  
The king immediately rushed out of the temple and ordered the doors to be shut and barred. Nothing from inside was to be touched or taken out and no one was allowed to come in. This order surprised many of his men as they were always told to keep the doors open. Any time of the day, the king would pause from his duties to make his way into the small altar inside his palace to pray for strength, wisdom and power to his new gods. The fire inside the altar which burned so brightly was beginning to die, this was something that usually caused the king alarm. He would order that the sacred fire not burn out, under any cost. They knew there was something strange as the King left in a hurry, telling them to close the stone doors without even telling them to protect the fire. Dark days were among them, and fear slowly crept and loomed over each other. No one dared say a word nor did they want to think about it. They could only pray to their God of Light that he aid their King in his time of weakness. No one remembered that the wrath of their old, once great but now forgotten gods were still a danger to them. Servants came rushing towards their monarch, asking what was wrong and if he had a need for anything. In a frantic voice, he’d dismiss them and told them to leave him. That he would go back to his court for a dream came to him, a vision. Something that was to come and they would not be able to stop. A punishment, he called it. It was his retribution for the betrayal he had done. The servants did not understand this. They could not stop their king from running into his throne room, yelling for the attendants to close the doors and not disturb him. Never had they seen him like this, they honestly thought they would never. Inside the altar, no one saw the sacred flame die out. The judgement and wrath on the kingdom had begun.

* * *

 

The King turned from his closed doors towards the throne that was on an elevated plane at the very center of the room. Fine drapery surrounded the sun dried brick pillars of the palace in each corner. He took a deep breath and walked towards his throne, slowly climbing the steps which lead to the surface where it was placed. Slowly, he looked around and regained his calmness, seating himself on the golden throne which was made for him and him alone.

The racing of his heart was slowly pacing itself. It began again, the ominous air which had embraced him and suffocated him enough to lead him to run out of the temple. The King was frozen on his seat and was unable to move. He knew there was no escaping it now. He could not close his eyes as the silver light appeared before him, forming into a man, just like him, but far from human. He did not look like he was from this world. Silver hair and eyes tinted gold. His skin was pale, giving him an unnatural glow. His dark blue inner robes were made of fine silk; the outer robes he wore were of the same color as his hair. The mark of a small black crescent moon was on his forehead, and a few markings across his cheek were also colored the same. In his hand, he had a short sword. The handle itself was made of lapis lazuli. His gray wings flared behind him, beating a bit as he approached the trembling King.

Another step forward made the Monarch fall on his knees. He bowed his entire body, his face touching the ground. “High Lord of the Moon, forgive me!” he cried in a tearful voice. The god did not seem to pay attention to this. His expression was devoid of compassion, instead in it’s place was a cold sort of impatience, of his tolerance finally breaking down and he was unable to take anymore. “I have given you enough time to change your ways, and instead of thinking of me even as a passing thought, you have commanded your people to forget me. You have asked them to take down my dwelling places of worship in place of homes for your new gods.” The god continued, gripping his sword as he took another step forward. “Do you deny this, Great King?”

The King swallowed hard and kept his gaze lowered. “No, my god. Not at all.” “You have lost your right to call me that.” The deity answered him. “You then have all the right to rob me of my life! Kill me with your sword, mighty God, but my people—“ “Your people are no longer my people. They do not utter my name for they do not know it. They speak of me as if I were a heathen demon who did not grace them with the blessings I gave.” The moon god, who stood before the defeated King, witnessing his weakness and despair before it could even begin, did not raise his sword. With a fear etched onto the monarch’s face as he waited for the strike of divine power. It never came. Instead, he turned away from the sight and spoke again. “It has been passed. The judgement.”

“I beg you, my God---“

“Your sacred fire has been extinguished.” The god said with finality. “It will not come today, it will not come tomorrow.” He paused. “But you will know when it has arrived. My wrath which I, and the ones you once worshiped alongside, bestow upon you.” The King’s heart began to race. He could not find the words to speak. “Your people will be conquered. Your sons and daughters, their children shall bring upon the end of this great Empire, which I gave to you. And yet you credited not me, but your strange gods. Your armies shall return, slain and wounded by different swords. I will give you to the hand of other kingdoms and races. And your gods will taste the same fall I have succumbed to.”

The moon deity glanced at him again, his eyes narrowing. There was an evident coldness and calm ruthlessness in his voice. Though he showed no attempt of any violent gesture, he did not set down his sword. Instead he stabbed it onto the ground. The handle glimmered, as did the mark of the moon on his forehead. There was a silver light that surrounded him beneath his feet, spreading through the entire room. It painted itself over the surface of the walls, silently moving throughout the rest of the palace. The king could feel it. Every inch of his sanctuary was now a reminder of his curse. His servants would bear the mark of doom and he was the source of it all. The light was now gone. The King stayed on his knees and the Moon Lord stood in silence. He grasped the handle of his sword again and drew it out of the ground. He slowly put it back into its sheath, his wings now folded and masked once more. He did not turn back to the King and did not even glance at him.

“My Lord Sin!” he called. “Master Sin!” But the Moon god called Sin remained deaf to his cries. The same light from which he had appeared from earlier enveloped him. As soon as it was gone, so was Sin.

* * *

 

Outside the palace, in the outskirts of the great kingdom, No one knew of what took place inside the throne room. No one will ever know, even as time passes. It is an event that history will forever be unaware of. It cannot be explained by any sort of logic or reason. It is beyond that. Sin looked down from his abode. On top of the mountains, he watched as life went on without him. He watched as the people headed to their fire temples. As people built homes, children played and merchants walked passed one another bringing with them their livelihood, as men and women went about their daily duties. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the tint of gold from them now gone, changing to completely silver.

“What do we do now, Sin?” Only immediate family would know that name. He was not alarmed at the presence of his brother, Nergal, who stood behind him in his crimson and black robes. Sin closed his eyes. No longer would anyone call him Father. His temples would forever be gone, perhaps not in history but from existence itself. It might have been the most painful thing for a god to face. Especially for one who has given all he could to those he called his children. “We move on.” Sin said again as he turned his back on the sight. He did not want to look back. He didn’t have the heart to look back. Nergal stepped forward, the usual smug smirk he had was not present on his face. In fact, he was quite stern, even solemn. It was a rare sight for those who knew him well. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“They will never remember.” The sun god said.

The moon god closed his eyes and shook his head. Slowly, he walked away from his former kingdom.

“And we shall never forget.”


End file.
